


FIGHT ME

by pepsicola



Series: Showdown [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Gen, M/M, i can't stop writing bunny angst, idk if this qualifies but i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23233006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepsicola/pseuds/pepsicola
Summary: Sitting on the curb, holding onto Kenny tight, for the first time, Butters really felt something.
Relationships: Kenny McCormick & Butters Stotch, Kenny McCormick/Butters Stotch
Series: Showdown [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1675960
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	FIGHT ME

**Author's Note:**

> "Treat You Better" starts playing in the distance.

“I hate you!”

Astonished, Kenny watched Butters storm out of Cartman’s house with a red, tear-streaked face. He was sobbing hard. Kenny could hear him gasp for breath from three yards away.

With hands curled in white-knuckled fists, Butters turned back to the open door to scream again, “I _hate_ you!”

Cartman was standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a T-shirt, boxers, and an expression of shock. His voice was pleading when he said, “C’mon, baby—”

“Don’t call me that!” Butters screeched.

Kenny didn’t know whether to keep walking or stop and make sure things didn’t escalate further. He doubted the two would get violent, but both of them were unpredictable.

It was Thursday, work had just ended, and Kenny wanted to pass by Henrietta’s place two houses down from Cartman’s. When he got off work every Thursday and Friday, he took the long way home just to try to catch a desperate glimpse of her. Today, though, he so happened to walk into this. Shortly, easily, _unfortunately,_ he became dumbstruck with what he was witnessing.

Butters stomped over to the sidewalk and sat on the curb, crying into his hands.

Kenny glanced at Cartman, but Cartman didn’t seem to notice him there. He seemed to be debating what to do, the same way Kenny was.

Eventually, Cartman retreated inside the house and closed the door softly.

Butters’ sobs were the only sound in the quiet neighborhood. He was twenty paces away from where Kenny stood frozen. Kenny rarely saw Butters angry, much less furious—the way he was now. He wanted to run away, but he wanted to stay and console his best friend too.

Butters’ shoulders shook. Kenny could hear when he closed his mouth to try to muffle the sobs. It was unsuccessful. They only burst out louder, coming in more aggressive spurts.

Before his head could decide how to react, Kenny’s feet chose for him. He sat next to Butters, mute until Butters noticed him there. His body stilled. He peeked up at Kenny through his hands. He sniffled at him.

“You okay?” Kenny asked gently. Butters’ white face was splotched pink. His eyes were bloodshot.

Nose curling, Butters snapped, “Whadda you think?”

Kenny went quiet again. He wasn’t used to being told off by Butters. He was used to him beating around the bush until Kenny finally managed to get the whole story out of him. Butters had never been so harsh with him before.

The pinched look of anger shattered from Butters’ face. His mouth opened. At first, no sound came out. His shaking arm caught Kenny’s attention. Butters’ hand hovered above Kenny’s knee like he was unsure if he was allowed to touch him. But then, after a second delay, his hand curled up and fell to his lap, and he said, “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just—just—” He sighed again, heavily this time.

Slowly, Kenny put his hand on Butters’ back and moved it in small circles. “I get what you mean.” He paused. “Wanna talk about it?” he added.

Butters shot him a sharp look. “No.” There were angry tears swimming in his blue eyes.

Cringing at himself, Kenny nodded. “Yep.” He really could be stupid sometimes.

Butters gnawed on his bottom lip. Then he rubbed his knuckles together. His lips started trembling as his nails dug into his palms. His skin grew red from the neck up, curling at his ears, blooming in his cheeks. He blurted, his words rushing together in one exhale, “He’s such an _asshole_ sometimes. He makes me so unbelievably _mad._ Whenever I think I know how to deal with him, he reminds me that I don’t.”

His intake of breath was fragmented in four different pieces.

He buried his face in Kenny’s shoulder. Kenny’s arms went around him in an instant. He felt Butters’ arms go around his neck, clinging tightly. Kenny felt the reverberations of Butters’ sobs echoing against his chest.

“So mad,” Butters was repeating. “He makes me so, so mad.” He began cursing Cartman’s name with passionate fury. Kenny never knew what a colorful vocabulary Butters had.

Kenny wanted to know what happened, but he was smart enough to not ask. He knew he was safer holding Butters on the curb in front of Cartman’s house than he was asking Butters about what Cartman had done.

It took a while, but progressively, like the calming of a storm, Butters’ cries and curses ceased until he was hugging Kenny silently. Butters turned his head. Kenny could feel his warm breath on his neck. The hairs on Kenny’s arms stood on end. He felt Butters’ lips brush his skin when he mumbled, “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not,” Kenny automatically said.

Butters laughed wryly. More warm breath clouded Kenny’s neck. All at once, Kenny was aware of the hot sun beating down on the thighs of his black jeans. Why had he decided to wear black jeans in the middle of summer?

“I am,” Butters insisted. “I’m an idiot who overreacts too easily.”

“I don’t think so,” Kenny argued. Butters was the least likely to overreact in any given situation.

Butters scoffed. He pulled away. He stared Kenny in the face fondly. Kenny felt the contact of Butters’ hands resting on his forearms burn against his skin. But then Butters’ soft smile faded to a frown. His eyes hardened. “See you, Ken,” he said abruptly.

He stood. His hands left Kenny’s arms. Kenny watched it happen like it was in slow motion. Butters’ hands slid down from the crook of his elbow, over his tattoo that said “Eternal” in Henrietta’s handwriting, down to his palms. His fingers ran over the lines, up to Kenny’s own fingers. Their fingertips barely touched, and Kenny saw himself try to grasp for Butters’ hand. But he slipped through his fingers.

The world returned to normal speed. In the distance, Kenny could hear the faint sound of police sirens. Suddenly the warmth of the sun wasn’t so hot anymore.

Butters walked back to the house. As soon as his feet—bare, Kenny realized—touched the driveway, the front door swung open. Cartman stood there, watching with relief as Butters returned to him. Butters smiled at him. Cartman smiled back, bending his neck a slight to peck Butters’ jaw he had cupped in his hands.

Always returning to Cartman with that happy smile plastered to his face. Always pretending nothing was wrong.

Facing forward, Kenny suddenly remembered how in June, Butters left home to live with Cartman.

Kenny stared at the house across the street. His eyebrows were pressed together to keep the beaming sunlight from his vision. Then he sighed. He massaged his temples. He could feel a headache coming on. Why did he bother trying?


End file.
